


Whither Thou Goest

by lankyguy



Category: Heroes & Villains: Richard the Lionheart, Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lankyguy/pseuds/lankyguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The repercussions of the end of series 2 of Robin Hood. Will Scarlett is in the Holy Land.<br/>Prelude to "A Barbarous Age"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whither Thou Goest

Will Scarlett was studying King Richard’s neck. Thick and muscular and weather worn and rough from the sun. It reminded him of the neck of horse, or a bull. He suspected that it was also unexpectedly soft in places. The thought regularly distracted him. 

Staring intently at the hollow at the base of the King’s neck, he imagined his tongue running over the hair there. Will loved the golden, slightly ginger hair on the King’s head and arms; it was sharp contrast to his own dark brown locks. He wondered what the King looks like naked, how golden the hair on his… 

Stop that! He admonished himself. I should not be thinking such things about the King. 

A moment later he corrected himself, how would anyone know what he thought? Only God knew his thoughts, and surely, God could see how deeply and devotedly he loved the King. Still, those thoughts were not always pure.

Is not our ability to love given by God? He protested silently. Are we not made in HIS image? What could be more Godly than the King naked, he thought with a crooked smile. His head dipped as he blushed.

A goblet of wine suddenly slammed down in front of him, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Drink up Lucas!” Came the booming voice of Robert, Earl of Leicester, as he clapped Will soundly on the back.

Will smiled and nodded. He didi not react to Robert de Beaumont’s drunken slip. It was no offence to be mistaken for Lucas. Rather, he thought it quite the compliment. Lucas was missed and much loved. 

Looking around at the tent full of nobles, he wondered at being here at all. I should be serving them, not being waited on myself, he thought. Though it was an honour he had earned from his exploits as one of Robin Hood’s men, he was too humble to acknowledge it. Everyone in King Richard’s Crusader Army held him in high regard.

Will thought glumly of Robin and the Gang, and wished he were back in Sherwood. It was simpler then, he knew his place, and he wondered again, why he wasn’t there. 

After Robin had left with the outlaws, Will’s life fell to ruin. His retirement in Acre with Djaq lasted only a few short weeks. Harsh reality intruded and it became clear that it was the constant press of danger, in the outlaw wood, that threw them together at all. At leisure, in her family home, their differences pulled them apart. 

The obstacles presented here by their, literally, warring cultures were just too great to be overcome and they parted ways.

He would always love Djaq, but that life was over. With Robin and his friends gone, Will was at loose ends. Follow them and return to Sherwood or do something else.

Setting off from Acre toward Jerusalem, Will determined to catch up to the Crusader Army. Will thought he might find purpose in the Holy Land following King Richard.

The Army was camped in the desert near Jerusalem. Unknown to Will, the King was in mourning. His beloved friend and ward Lucas de Braose had died a few short weeks before in the outskirts of Jaffa. 

He had met Lucas briefly in Acre. The two men had shared an uncanny resemblance. Will’s arrival travel-worn, starving, and half-dead, caused uproar when he collapsed at the entrance to Richard’s camp.

The rumour went that Lucas de Braose had risen from the grave to follow his beloved King, and avenge himself on Saladin.

Will was given accommodation in a small tent near the King’s own. Richard’s personal physician set to the task of nursing the young man back to health.

When Will finally woke, the King was summoned.

“You are Will Scarlett,” Richard said. Will nodded and tried to sit up, but fell back on the pillow unconscious.

It was night and the air was cool when he woke up again, and the King was sat in a chair at his bedside.

“Thrsty?” The King asked. 

Will nodded and the King moved next to him on the bed. He held up Will’s head and helped him drink from a goblet.

“Thank you,” Will said in a raspy voice, grateful and amazed at the King’s care.

“You scared us, you know. You looked like death when you walked into my camp. Crossing the desert was not the best choice of route.”

“I don’t know the country and I worried about being an Englishman alone on the roads.”

“With good reason, but what happened? The last I saw, you were staying in Acre with your Saracen woman. Why are you here Will Scarlett?”

“I came to serve you, to fight with you.”

“Ah,” Richard said sadly. “Well, we will have plenty of time for that later, rest now. Here.” The King helped Will take another sip from the goblet.

Will recovered at a quick pace. The King’s personal attendants fed and bathed and dressed him and they did so with such a measure of deference that it made him wonder. Surely, he had done nothing to deserve such treatment. He was just a peasant, after all. Too humble to see how much they respected one of the Warriors of Sherwood, the defenders of England.

“Get dressed,” Armand said, bustling into Will’s tent. He was the King’s favourite servant and reminded Will of nothing less than a fussy mother. It was obvious he loved Richard dearly and had taken prodigious care of Will. 

“Hurry!” Armand hissed pulling the tunic over Will’s head.

“What is it? What’s happened?” Will gaped openly, the tunic was the kind worn by the King’s own guard. Armand pulled a belt around his waist, a sheathed sword hung from it. It was a very handsome looking sword.

“It is time for you to earn your keep. You are to attend an audience as one of the King’s men, this morning – now!” 

Will gave Armand a panicked look.

“Just stand a little beside and behind him. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. Try to look impressive,” Armand clucked as he smoothed the tunic into Will’s belt. “You’ll do fine.”

Armand escorted Will into the King’s tent and put him in position. He darted out before Will could protest. Men in similar garb filed in and stood with him. They all had an initial look of shock on seeing him, by this time Will knew of what had befallen Lucas. 

Armand had told Will the tale of Lucas de Braose’s death by Saracen raiders, and the King’s subsequent anguish over it. It upset him to hear of the King’s pain and the many sleepless nights he had since. It increased Will’s affection for the Lionheart.

Will was also personally pained to hear of Lucas’ death. He had fond memories of the man. Though they had never solved the mystery of their near-identical resemblance, they got along famously. Thinking of Lucas made him smile, he had been a randy bugger!

Every time he looked up, the Outlaw found someone staring at him. He tried to ignore it and pretend he knew what was going on. They all waited silently. Finally, the King came in and took his seat. Will felt a pang of disappointment when he failed to catch the King’s eye.

A local farmer was escorted in. The King needed the man’s land, and the well on it. It was a negotiation. The Army could easily take the land by force, but winning the Holy Land did little good if you created an enemy at every turn. 

King Richard could be brutal when needed, but he was never needlessly so.

Will watched the interview with interest, and the next and then the next. It was a day taken up with the bureaucracy of running an army. Hours passed and the men standing next to him came and went, but Will held his position. Water was passed around and the tall lanky man next to him, Roger Godberd, had to repeatedly insist that he drink. 

“The King won’t like it if I let you pass out. We had quite enough of that your first day in camp,” Roger whispered with amusement.

At mid-day, the King declared a recess and left without a word. Will wondered why Armand had brought him there.

“What is the point of it? I have no experience, no training. I am not even a soldier. We fought with bows and arrows in the forest and I used my axe more than I ever used a sword! I’m useless here,” Will pouted as Armand helped him undress.

“You were there because the King wanted you there. That’s all you need to know, he wants you near him.” Armand folded the tunic carefully.

“Because I look like Lucas.”

“You do,” Armand agreed, “But you are also a hero of Sherwood. What ever else you do, you lift his spirits – and for that, I am very glad you’re here, Will Scarlett.”

“Really?” He brightened. “But what am I expected to – y’know, do?” Will pleaded.

“Be of service.”

“I will do anything for him, all he has to do is ask,” Will said solemnly.

“He knows,” Armand smiled and poured him a cup of wine. “Now that you are better, you will be expected to attend the King at all his meetings. You will also eat your meal at the King’s table, starting tonight.”

“The King’s table? Me?”

“You sit next to the Earl of Leicester, who sits to the right of the King. Can you remember that?”

“Of course, I’m not a total git.”

“Not quite,” Armand smiled, pouring a cup for himself, “My cunning carpenter.” 

Will smiled, and they clinked their cups together.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Try to relax, you fidget too much,” Armand chirped. “You’re like a twitchy bird.”

“You should talk, mother hen,” Will grinned. 

Armand smacked him behind the head.

“Ow!”

“Don’t think you can get away with all that, pretty boy. I will show you ‘mother hen,’ and take you over my knee! Just let King Richard try and stop me.”

“Oh , for God’s sake! Cheer up Lucas!” It was Robert, the Earl of Leicester, bringing him out of his reflections again.

Will looked around at the party, at the King, hoping no one noticed how ill at ease he was.

“I’m sorry. It is ‘Will.” I know.” Robert added in a hushed tone, “I didn’t mean...”

“It’s fine, really. I don’t mind,” Will smiled warmly.

“You’re all right, lad.” Robert put an arm affectionately around Will’s shoulder, hugging him. 

Dinner passed in a flurry. So many people to meet and so many things to learn. It was all a blur. The Earl of Leicester was an amiable sort of chap, which surprised Will to no end. Save for Robin, Earl of Huntingdon, and King Richard, Will had always held a dim view of nobles.

He found himself constantly watching Richard, desperately hoping to catch his eye. Realising everyone else in the room was doing exactly the same, he chided himself for being a fool. Richard was the centre of the entire English world! Hoping to catch his eye, you silly boy, Will laughed. 

Taking a long draught from his goblet, he looked up just in time to see Richard smiling at him. His stomach fluttered. The King winked at him and it made him cough and spill his wine. That got a laugh from Richard and Will returned with an embarrassed smile.

The meal lasted for another hour, until the King finally called an end to it. Will was a little relieved. He didn’t really know anyone and his natural shyness kept him silent.

The King left alone. The rest of the party dispersed quickly and cheerily, leaving Will at loose ends. Servants entered and began cleaning the table. Armand was not among them, and the Outlaw was confused. Do I help? He wondered, but at a nod from one took the hint and left.

Stepping out of the tent, the night air was crisp and cool. Will decided on a walk through the camp. His head swimming with the wine and thoughts of the King. 

He loved listening to the life of the camp. Men were talking and laughing. There was singing and some dancing. It made him giddy. Maybe this could be something to belong to. There were even occasional calls out to him, usually from men thinking he was Lucas de Braose, though some remembered Will Scarlett from Acre. Waving in return, he continued his solitary exploration.

It was a big camp and he got lost several times, but eventually wound his way back around and to his tent. Through the haze of wine, he dimly registered the man standing guard. With his tent so near the King’s own, Will was accustomed to guards always about and thought nothing of it.

Walking into his dim candle lit quarters he found King Richard sitting on his bed, waiting for him. Will was suddenly and completely sober. He knelt reflexively.

“Stop that.” Richard said. “You don’t need do that anymore.”

“You’re the King, sire. I always have to do that.”

“You certainly took your time getting back here after dinner.”

“I had a walkabout the camp. I didn’t expect you to be waiting, sire.”

“Come here,” Richard patted the bed.

Will looked from side to side.

“Yes, you,” The King laughed. “Come, sit with me.” 

Will tentatively approached the bed and sat beside him. Squirming, he looked at the King nervously.

“What did you think of today?” The King asked.

“I can’t rightly say.”

“Come now, surely you have an opinion,” Richard pressured.

“I’m not sure what you want from me, sire.” Will said confused.

“I… ” The King started.

“I know that you miss your friend,” Will said sadly, “But he’s dead, and I just look like him.”

“It’s true, you do look remarkably like Lucas,” The King admits. “Enough alike to pass as twins, but it is more than that.”

“Is it? How can I serve you, sire?” Will hesitated. “Please tell me, I am all alone and all at sea. Give me something to do.”

“To start with, I want you to call me Richard, at least when we are alone. I want you at my side, be my counsel.”

“I am not equipped, sire… Richard.”

“You are young sir, you are. Hear me out. You are more valuable to me than you know, Will Scarlett. You are a carpenter. Most of the men close to me are either nobles or professional soldiers, and I need other voices. I need someone who knows how to build things, someone clever, who knows how to create things. That man is you Will Scarlett. I need you here. I need your voice.”

“You don’t even know me,” Will tried to turn away.

Richard grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his green eyes. “I know enough.” He pulled Will close and put and arm across the Outlaw’s back, a large hand affectionately cupping the back of his head. “You are a strong man, Will Scarlett. A man of courage and loyalty. You are a true hero. I want you with me.”

The King was so close that Will could count Richard’s eyelashes if he wanted. He started to say something, but instead he fell in to kiss the King. 

“Jesu!” Will jerked back, shocked and ashamed. Falling to his knees, he prostrated himself. “Sire, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

King Richard cut him off with a laugh and stood. Will looked up confused.

“For God’s sake, get up Will,” Richard commanded. 

As Will shakily climbed to his feet the King pulled him close. Strong arms supported him and allowed him to relax in the larger man’s embrace. There was safety and security in those powerful arms. For the first time since he left Sherwood, Will Scarlett was at ease.

Thrilling to Richard’s hot breath on his neck the butterflies in his stomach stirred again. Richard’s lips pressed against his neck making something lower stir as well. 

Will looked into Richard’s deep eyes and they kissed again. Richard’s hands roamed over his body causing quivers as went. Fumbling with the King’s breeches, Will stroked the hardness that rose in his grip. Richard stopped him, pulling away. A furtive look passed over Will’s eyes but the King smiled broadly, and Will melted.

“I want to look at you.” Richard explained as he started removing Will’s clothes. Unlacing the shirt, Richard lay a kiss on the Outlaw’s collarbone. Then pulling the shirt off, he threw it to the ground. Richard’s own shirt followed quickly. Standing bare-chested before each other, Richard wrapped Will in another tight embrace and kissed him passionately.

Richard’s hand moved down Will’s back and into his breeches. He cupped the smooth moons of the younger man’s ass.

Touching bare skin to bare skin, Will’s head swam. He inhaled the musk of Richard’s body. It was a combination of sweat and desert and perfume and it is intoxicating. A thought flashed in his mind of Robin, remembering how the men had made fun of Robin for smelling of rose-petals and lavender. Richard smelled of that. Will loved lavender. 

He kissed Richard’s shoulder, enjoying the salty taste of his skin. 

The King kissed and licked his way down Will’s lean body, until finally pushing him down onto on the bed in front of him. Richard pulled off Will boots and then his own. He ran a calloused hand over the young carpenter’s tight stomach. Laying a kiss on Will’s flat belly, he teased the dark hairs with his teeth.

“You are so beautiful,” Richard sighed and pulled Will’s breeches off. The younger man’s cock was long and turgid and jutted straight up from a heavy thatch of wiry black hair. Richard inhaled the deep musky scent and ran his mouth along the length of the shaft. 

Will trembled as the King’s mouth took him in and moved gently up and down. He moaned and grabbed at the short reddish hair on Richard’s head. Pushing him away, Will bent forward to kiss him.

Returning the kiss, Richard began to work his way back down the younger man’s body and back to his cock. Nibbling on Will’s foreskin, Richard felt him squirm and buck. He looked at the carpenter’s face and smiled.

“Take a deep breath, young Master Scarlett,” He cautioned. “Not quite yet.” He flipped Will over and spread the ripe, full moons of his arse, lapping at the dark entrance. Richard made the younger man moan and thrash with pleasure. 

“You’re ticklish!” Richard laughed.

“Not exactly used to that.”

“I’ll have to remedy that,” Richard smiled and returned to his work. Soon he replaced his tongue with a wet finger, then two, getting Will ready. Slowly kissing his way up the young man’s smooth back.

By the time Richard made his way up to Will Scarlett’s neck, the young man was grinding back onto his hand. He kissed the nape of Will’s long sinuous neck.

Will turns his head back as far as he could to kiss the King. Richard replaced the fingers in Will’s hole with the head of his cock and taking Will’s hand he pushed in. Will cried out, making Richard pause.

“Don’t stop,” Will grunts. 

Slowly pushing all the way inside, Richard paused again, allowing Will to grow accustomed to him. Richard felt the younger man wiggle under him, their kissing grows more frenetic. He started to move and is soon thrusting in and out with abandon.

They moved together; King and peasant, their pace increased. Will groaning as Richard pounded into him. 

Richard ran his hands over Will’s body. Pulling them both up off the bed to a kneeling position, the King reached under the younger man and grasped his cock. 

A few quick strokes from Richard’s hand and Will it spent, moaning and gasping. He fell forward on the bed and the King moved with him. 

Richard found himself toppling over his own precipice. His thrusts became short and rough and brutal. Finally grunting, he loosed his seed deep inside the young outlaw.

Gasping on the bed, they were a jumble of glistening flesh. Will a pile of elbows and right angles, whilst Richard was all large, round muscle and sinew.

Richard brought his finger up to his mouth, tasting Will’s seed. He ran a hand over Will’s trembling body, he traced designs on his skin.

“This is sacred,” Richard said. “You belong to me now.”

“I was already yours.”

Richard nuzzled into the angles of Will’s coltish form and they fell asleep together.

At first light, Will Scarlett woke up in bed alone. Probably a good thing, he thought. He jumped with a start, realising the King was sitting in the chair by his bedside and fully clothed as if he has just walked in. How late was it? Richard regarded him intently, as if unaware that Will was awake. A broad smile quickly broke across his face and Will smiled back.

Before either can speak, they hear a commotion and voices outside.

“Enter!” King Richard barked and a messenger burst in and bowed before the King.

“Sire, you’re needed. The Earl of Leicester sent me to find you.”

“Thank you,” Richard sighed. He got up and moved to leave. At the entrance to the tent he looked back and gave Will a smile and a wink.

The messenger looked at Will for the first time and there is flash of recognition and familiarity on his face. Will knew that look by now. 

A rumour moved quickly through camp; The King stood guard nightly over the look-alike of his beloved friend and ward Lucas de Braose. He still grieved over his young friend’s death. No one would ever wonder at King Richard being in Will Scarlett's tent.

**Author's Note:**

> Pure fanwank; Series two of Robin Hood ended like crap, and it and Heroes & Villains: Richard the Lionheart did sort of cross over. Harry Lloyd was in both, but played different characters, and it all rolls from that.
> 
> post- RH s02e13 "We Are Robin Hood!" post- “Heroes & Villains: Richard the Lionheart”


End file.
